Azrael Shadowcroft & the Usurpers of Avalon
by wraithwind
Summary: When an ancient evil reawakens, a young boy will come tumbling into the life of Albus Potter. Will he & his famous father be able to restore this boy's birthright, will the world be returned permanently to the dark ages, & what will happen when those burning blue eyes capture Al's heart? - rated M for language & later chapters. main pairings: AP/OC, HP/CW, RW/HG


**AN- this is my first ever fan-fic so please be nice, but please be honest as well. don't have a bata yet so if anyone is willing let me know. not sure just yet exactly where i want this to go so any suggestions would be appreciated. please R&R, & i hope u guys like this.**

**Azrael Shadowcroft & the Usurpers of Avalon**

**Chapter 1 **

Twenty four years. She could hardly believe it. Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, stood looking out of her office window watching as the sky grew steadily darker. She had held that title for nearly a quarter of a century, & just couldn't believe how fast the time had flown by. She also couldn't believe how well she had weathered it. She allowed herself a rare self-indulgent smile. She remembered the aftermath of the end of the war as if it were yesterday; all the media & interviews, people wanting to know what it was like being one of the teachers responsible for the education of THE Harry Potter & his friends, did she feel in any way responsible for the outcome of the war because of her part in that education, would the school reopen in the future & if so, did she plan to accept the post of Headmistress, & on & on. **  
**

Then there was the issue of rebuilding the castle. Hundreds of professional dwarf stone masons had been called in to man the repairs of the physical structure. Originally Hogwarts had been just an ordinary castle belonging to the founders, who placed multiple enchantments on the building to make it what it had become. But this time around, each team of dwarfs was accompanied by an equally skilled team of witches & wizards who spelled each & every stone, tile, plank, shingle & shard of glass that went into the repairs. The protections woven into the rebuilding of the castle were so strong now, that it was nigh on indestructible, & would probably last another thousand years if not more. The layout of the school however, by popular consensus, was not altered. It seamed that in this time of great change, people wanted their memory of the historic & iconic castle preserved for their children who had yet to experience it. The amount of time, money, & work that had been donated by the general wizarding public was staggering; so much so that the repairs took less than a year, & was ready to reopen its doors to students by September 1, 1999.

There was a grand reopening ceremony conducted early that morning to which many had been invited. Primarily among them were the returning students & their immediate families, but also many ministry officials, prominent families who had contributed time & money to the repairs, the staff of course, & all the survivors who had fought in the final battle. Many awards were also handed out at this time, as it was also a memorial service. Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, & Hermione Granger were all awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, as were all those who gave their lives during the battle. All of the Staff & the members of the Order of the Phoenix were awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class. The rest of the individuals involved in the battle were awarded the Order of Merlin, Third Class.

It had been a very emotional gathering with speeches from Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minster for Magic, several surviving members of the OOTP, teachers, students that had fought, & of course Minerva herself, & then finally Harry Potter. At the climax of the ceremony a great white marble obelisk was unveiled standing not far from Dumbledore's tomb. On it were inscribed the names of all the fallen heroes & victims of Voldemort's reign of terror. Carved into its base was a stylized phoenix, rising from the flames. No sooner had the disillusionment charm been lifted from the monument, than there was an explosion from a large basin at its base & none other than Fawkes the phoenix erupted from its shallow depths, leaving behind him a ball of flames that all present knew would burn eternally. The sweet, yet heart-breaking tones of phoenix song filled their hearts & minds as the magnificent bird circled the gathering three times before vanishing in a swirl of red & yellow flames. Even now, after all these years, the event still brought tears to the Headmistress's beady eyes, tears of both sorrow & joy.

"Penny for your thoughts, Minerva?", asked a very distinctive voice. She turned around to look into the piercing blue gaze of the portrait of Albus Dumbledore. She sighed, then smiled a little before walking to stand in front of him. "Oh, nothing really," she said, "just remembering."

"A worthy past time, if done carefully." Albus smiled down at her. Despite being the second to last Headmaster, succeed by Severus Snape, Albus's portrait was still pride-of-place directly behind the great throne-like chair that was now occupied by Professor McGonagall. None of the other portraits, including Snape himself would hear of Albus being relocated to a secondary position somewhere on another wall of the office. Minerva chuckled at his comment. "I was just being a bit nostalgic, remembering that first year after the end of the war; rebuilding the castle, hiring new staff members, organizing the the first years of '99 with the students who should have been first years in '98." Chuckling again she said, "How many times, Albus, over the last 24 years, but especially back then, did I stare at you & ask frustratedly, 'How did you do it?'" "Too many to count I would imagine," was Dumbledore's laughing reply.

"Yes, but each time, you always had an encouraging word," she said. "But in any case, the past is the past, & right now I have to focus on the future. The new term is just around the corner, & its time to start getting the staff up & running again, the house elves need to be reorganized, & I still haven't heard back from Harry as to just how many students have applied to the academy. Though with as busy as he usually is, I doubt it will be any time soon. He's another one that I can't fathom just how he manages to get everything done. Between teaching here, acting as a consultant for the aurors at the ministry, & organizing classes of his own at his auror training academy, it's a wonder that he hasn't collapsed." She gave a half exasperated, half respectful huff, then looked out at the dark sky again & said, "But then again, I suppose I know why he doesn't want to 'sit still' so to speak."

Dumbledore gave a sad, knowing smile & nodded. "Yes, if anyone knows what Harry went through, it would be you my dear. Did not your husband pass in the same manner?" he inquired.

"Aye," she said, "venomous tentacula bite. & we had only had three years together." Minerva did not begin to tear up. It had been many years ago now, & she had long sense come to terms with the pain. "At least Ginny gave him three beautiful children to comfort him, & lately Charlie has been doing quite a bit of that as well." Her voice had taken on a slightly conspiratorial note as she glanced sidelong at Dumbledore's portrait, half expecting him to confirm her suspicions. After all, quite apart from having a sometimes disconcerting habit of seeming to know everything, more or less, he did have a second portrait hanging in the main hall of the "Phoenix Academy of Advanced Defense & Auror Training", which of course was the academy which Harry had established about fourteen years ago, after retiring from the auror office, so if anyone could confirm her thoughts, it would be him.

"Minerva," he chuckled, " just because I also hang in the..."

The headmistress had just raised her hand, a peculiar expression crossing her face as she stared at a point on her office floor just past her desk. Before she even had time to draw her wand, there was a blinding flash of brilliant blue fire, & the unmistakable echo of phoenix song reverberated around the room. The azure inferno blazed for a moment, then it & the music died away. In its place, kneeling on one knee, was a young boy of about sixteen. He had very long, thick, snow-white hair, dusky skin, & was dressed in an white robe of light, unbleached wool, beautifully embroidered with sapphire blue spiral & vine patterns.

Minerva McGonagall quickly sealed off the room with the strongest wards she could think of before bringing her wand to bear on the intruder, who seamed to be panting somewhat. "Who are you?" was her dangerously whispered demand.

"Azrael?" was the startled reply, though it came not from the boy in front of her, but rather from the portrait behind her. She glanced behind her, "You know this boy Albus?" she asked amazed.

"Indeed," he replied. "It was my great honor to meet him some fifty years ago by our reckoning. He is..."

"I am Azrael Myrdden Wilt Shadowcroft," said the boy as he stood, "descendant of Morgaine, known as Morgan Le Fey, sister to Arthur Pendragon, granddaughter to Taliesin, the greatest Merlin of Britain!" he declared. Minerva stared in amazement at the boy. He was rather short for his age, & his absolutely colorless hair cascaded both loose & in braids down to his knees. But what held the headmistress's attention were the boy's eyes, which blazed with the same blue intensity as the flames which had brought him to her office in the first place.

Suddenly the young man wavered, his eyes seamed to glaze over, though the glow was still present. "Please,help me" he said, in a breathless, desperate voice, then collapsed unconscious to the floor.

* * *

**AN - ok, so a few points here. first of all, for the blue fire effect, think of the goblet of fire from the 4th HP movie. for what Azrael's eyes look like, look up the SiFi channel's production of Frank Herbert's "Dune". the ppl known as Fremen have eyes that glow blue, & that's the look I'm going for. As for his heritage, I'm borrowing a bit from a fantastic book called "The Mists of Avalon". U don't need to have read this book to understand my story, but it is my absolute favorite telling of the Arthurian Legend & can't recommend it highly enough if u haven't already read it. Finally, Myrdden, if I remember correctly, is a Welsh name, & in welsh the "dd" is nearly always pronounced as "th" like in "thin", & thus the name should be pronounced MIR-then. Also, like in Mists, I'm taking the view that "Merlin" is actually a title, & not the actual name of a specific person. There is evidence that there have been several "Merlins" of ancient Britain, as it seems to refer to the current archdruid of the day. Myrdden Wilt means "Merlin the Wild" & was the supposedly "mad" Merlin who dwelt in a cave, (he's also my personal favorite Merlin from the stories because of his closeness to the land & animals) & the Merlin Taliesin was the greatest bard Britain ever knew.**


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